


Penumbra

by DarkoftheBlueMoon7



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Good Friend, self-indulgent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7840789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkoftheBlueMoon7/pseuds/DarkoftheBlueMoon7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1943, the nogitsune takes a different host, escaping the internment camp in the chaos.  Nearly 50 years later, the nogitsune crosses paths with a baby struggling to be born and finds a new place to hide.</p>
<p>Seventeen years later, Stiles has to protect his friends and family while trying to keep his own secrets as his past catches up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penumbra

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Satan (Jeff Davis) owns Teen Wolf. So anything you recognize in not mine. Also don’t post this fic on Good Reads or similar site.

Chapter Warning: Violence, blood-shed, torture, suffocation.  Basically the nogitsune being itself.

 

*~*~*~

 Penumbra (pi- **nuhm** -br _uh_ )

Noun

  1. The partially shaded outer region of the shadow cast by an opaque object.
  2. Something that covers, surrounds, or obscures
  3. A surrounding or adjoining region in which something exists in a lesser degree: fringe
  4. _Astronomy._ a) space of partial illumination (as in an eclipse) between the perfect shadow on all sides and the full light. b) the less dark outer part of a sunspot, surrounding the dark core



*~*~*~

  ** _1943_**

 

“There’s an answer, I swear.  What gets broken without being held?”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“A promise.  Get it?”

 

“No, I don’t.  It’s stupid, it’s not funny.  None of this is funny.”

 

As faint as a dying breath, the nogitsune glided swiftly through the ether, tugged along like a kite on a string.  A summons…that hadn’t happened in…well….it wasn’t exactly sure.  Time had the tendency to slip away without the tether of a body, running together like wet paint the colors mixing in a muddled blur.  That was really no way of knowing how much time had passed since it had last been summoned to the physical plane by some idiot.

 

The insistent pull let the dark spirit to a growing pile of bodies much to the nogitsune’s delight.  Many of those bodies were so freshly dead that the flesh was still warm while others still lived but barely, weakening as each heartbeat pumped hot blood onto the ground their life-force sputtering like a dying candle flame. The bodies of both the living and the dead were being unloaded with as much care as a sack of potatoes from the back of the military’s vehicle by a pair of soldiers who piled them with careless indifference.

 

The air thrummed with fear and pain and death, those delicious vibrations nearly driving the starving nogitsune into a frenzy of feeding.  Tragically without a physical form it could not feed on this delicious feast enough even begin to sate its hunger. 

 

One of the many reasons to acquire a host and quickly.

 

Still there were compensations to being a spirit one of which was the ability to see into the minds of those who had been so foolish as to summon it.  So the whole sordid tale was easy for the nogitsune to pick out of the mind of the wet, blood-soaked kitsune who should have known better than to call a dark spirit to a place soaked in despair, rage and death.

 

But the fox-Noshiko-in her grief and rage cared nothing for the consequences as she called for kitsunetsuki-for possession by a fox spirit.  She wanted a powerful nogitsune, one of the void, one that fed off chaos, strife and pain.  Inviting the dark spirit into her body, to imbue her flesh with power and use it as a weapon to rain down bloody vengeance on all those who had a hand in her lovers’ death.

 

 _Inviting_ was the key.  By inviting the dark spirit into her body, Noshiko had ensured that if the nogitsune accepted her invitation she would remain in control while she shared her body with the spirit, being able to draw from its power.  In exchange the nogitsune would have a physical body, would finally be able to feed, to experience the addictive sensations that came with being corporal. 

 

That alone would be worth having to share-

 

There was a flicker of life nearby that caught the nogitsune’s attention, faint and fading with each passing moment.  The dead lover who wasn’t so dead, fingers intertwined with Noshiko own.

 

If the nogitsune had lips it would have smiled.

 

“These jokes are stupid.”

 

The nogitsune took a deep breath with new lungs, body trembling, toes curling in pleasure, tasting blood, death and despair on the muggy night air and feeding deeply.

 

“They’re not jokes, idiot.  They’re riddles.  My girl back home loves them.”

 

Noshiko’s eyes widened in horror as the body that had been lying so still beside her slowly sat up. 

 

“Rinko?”

 

A malevolent smile stretched across its-her- lips, eyes glittering with a malevolent and gleeful hunger as she cruelly squeezed the fingers interlaced with her own, savoring the whimper of pain as the bones broke with a satisfying crunch.

 

“What has a neck but no head?”

 

“Your mother.”

 

Dropping the mangled hand, the nogitsune got to her feet.

 

“No, you idiot.  A bott-what the hell is that?”

 

The soldiers stared in horror at the sight of Rinko’s blood drenched body moving towards them, her limbs jerking unnaturally completely out of sync with the rest of her in a way that resembled human motion and yet was not.  It had been so long since she had a body that she needed time to adjust to the vagaries of flesh.

 

One of the soldiers (Merrick, Rinko’s mind supplied with the memory of cruel smirks and rough hands on her body) snapped out of his stupor to pull out his gun and start firing frantically.  She moaned as the bullets seared into her borrowed flesh, pain flaring across to her senses.  After so long a spirit she relished all sensation, even pain.  The closer she got, the more frantic he became firing madly as the bullets failed to stop her approach. 

 

“What’s the matter baby?”  She asked with the same cruel lilt he had a few times he managed to catch Rinko alone as she grab both of his hands around the gun, “Cat got your tongue?”  She forced his hands downwards, feeling his muscles fight against her superior strength as she fired several rounds into his crotch.  As he screamed in agony, she let him fall to the ground and tossed the empty gun.

 

The other soldier-Hayes-was frantically trying to get into the truck, his hands shaking so badly he couldn’t get the door open.  Upon seeing her he tried to pull out his gun but she caught him around him tightly around the neck with both hands.

 

“What has a neck but no head?” she asked cheerfully before twisting his head around until his neck snapped with a sharp crack.  With a hard yank she ripped his head from his body in a spray of bright arterial red.  She contemplated the head in her hands for a moment, the frozen expression of horror on his face as she savored the dying echoes of fear and pain before tossing the head aside with a negligent gesture.

 

“Rinko!”

 

Blood splattered on her pale skin and soaking into her dress, tears flowing from her eyes, her expression one of agony, guilt and horror as she knelt among the dead and dying…  Noshiko was a lovely sight.

 

“Rinko!”  She sobbed as if her heart was breaking, “Rinko, please!”

 

From within the body the nogitsune now inhabited, Rinko began to awake slowly from the twilight sleep that came from being so close to death, _‘…….Noshiko?’_

Giggling as she playfully blew Noshiko a kiss, the nogitsune climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck.  With quick fingers she removed the pins holding her hair in its uncomfortable style and kicked off the too-small shoes that pinched her feet.  Ah…much better.  As she wiggled in the seat to get more comfortable, she felt something in the pocket of her dress and took it out.

 

It was a small golden tube of lipstick.

 

Noshiko had given it to Rinko as a Christmas present.  Such luxuries were scarce in the camp so she did not have the heart to explain that she had stopped wearing makeup after one too many close calls with the guards.  Instead she had said that was too special to wear everyday and only worn it when she was with Noshiko.  It had become a shared secret, a private intimate thing between them.

 

The lipstick was matte and dark red eyes she carefully applied it to her lips in a perfect hunter’s bow.  She checked her reflection in the rearview mirror.  With her typically neat black hair strewn down around her face, eyes black as pitch, lips of the collar of dried blood and teeth gleaming fangs, she was strange and eerie, like a monster.

 

Perfect.

 

Starting the truck with the keys she found in the ignition, she drove back to the internment camp whistling cheerfully along the way.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The screams of terror and wails of despair reverberated and echoed until the sounds seemed to be coming from the walls themselves as the doctors, nurses and patients of Eichen house scurried through the hallways like trapped rats, many fought invisible monsters, attacked each other or claws at their own skin caught in the illusions that she had created.

 

 _‘Dinner and a show.’_   The nogitsune remarked to her host who had finally woke up enough to sob hopelessly in a corner of their shared minds as the nogitsune sauntered through the hallway, her bare feet leaving a trail of bloody footprints as she listened to that sweet symphony and fed on the smorgasbord of misery and chaos. 

 

Even in the bedlam it was easy for her to find a specific room as she followed the smell of burnt meat. 

 

The nogitsune could see the whole sordid tale in Rinko’s mind.  The jealousy, oh the jealousy Rinko had felt, even knowing that the relationship was a sham, that Noshiko was using Rhys’ attraction to her so that he would look the other way as she stole supplies did little to soothe the sick feeling in Rinko’s stomach when she watched the two of them together.  But she’d loved Noshiko and was afraid to lose her, so said nothing of her feelings even when she realized that Noshiko had come to love Rhys.

 

 Now that handsome face was burned beyond recognition and he was tied to the bed like an animal to keep him from tearing at his bandages.  Only his mouth was uncovered, the white gauze bandages stained red with blood and blacken lips parted as a low moan sounded with each breath.  Perhaps the fire had damaged the nerves or the pain had overwhelmed everything for even soaking his bandages with an entire bottle of alcohol barely resulted in a whimper. 

 

It was disappointing really, not the meal the nogitsune was expecting. 

 

Oh well.  The nogitsune entertained herself by climbing on top of him and pressing a pillow over his face, relishing in the feeling of him squirming beneath her as he fought to breathe, the restraints kept him from bucking her off as she drank his fear and pain.  When his struggle began to weaken, she removed the pillow and listened to him gasp for air for a moment before putting the pillow back over his face, laughing as he fought with renewed vigor.  Before long he began to weaken, each struggle more feeble than the last until he stopped moving all together.

 

Drinking the last dregs of his death, she climbed off the bed to search for new entertainment and another meal.

 

The moment she stepped out of the room, she nearly got her throat torn out.  The werewolf’s roar echoed loudly as the nogitsune blocked the claws that were coming for her throat, a vicious smile on her face as the wolf snarled in rage.  The fight was brief but intense.  Satomi’s werewolf strength would have given her the edge had she not still been healing and the nogitsune not battened on pain and misery. 

 

The nogitsune laughed as she pressed her speed advantage, inflicting damage to Satomi still healing body that would’ve killed a human, breaking bones, crushing tendons and pulping flesh.  Even with those injuries, Satomi kept fighting but much too soon she began to weaken.  In quick secession the nogitsune slammed her fist into Satomi’s chest with enough force to drive the broken ribs into the lungs.  As the wolf coughed up blood, the nogitsune kicked her on the chin painfully snapping her head back.  When she hit the ground, she did not move.

 

“Rinko!”

 

Noshiko stood tall despite her blood soaking her dress, katana gripped in one hand and eyes glowing like coals, “why are you doing this?”

 

The nogitsune tilted her head, hair flowing like a silky black waterfall over her shoulder as she gave a Gaelic shrug with a coquettish smile, “Why not?”

 

The razor sharp blade of the katana sang through the air missing her throat by inches.  With a scream of rage that echoed off the walls like a wail, Noshiko attacked.  The nogitsune felt a momentary pang of regret for not taking her body for Noshiko was a sight to behold in her rage and anguish.  But between her still healing body and her instinctual hesitation to harm Rinko, the attacks were easy for the nogitsune to fight off.

 

A good blade, the nogitsune admired as the blade struck the walls in a shower of sparks, she would keep it after she killed Noshiko.

 

Tiring of the game, the nogitsune took advantage of a moment of hesitation, grabbing Noshiko’s wrists in a crushing grip squeezing tightly enough to force her fingers to open as the tendons yielded to the pressure and she lost her grip on the sword’s hilt.  Quick as a thought the nogitsune caught the katana and used it to slice open Noshiko’s stomach.

 

Within their shared body, Rinko sobbed miserably as the dark spirit that had invaded her mind and took control of her body terrorized, maimed and killed as she was forced to watch as the helpless passenger.

 

She remembered her grandmother’s stories of myths and magic…of demons and dark spirits.  Those were the stories that kept her hidden under her covers too terrified to leave her bed to even go to the bathroom as a child.  The stories of dark spirits that caused chaos, strife and pain while wearing a familiar face.

 

The creature of her childhood nightmares was now wearing _her_ face.  Unlike the stories there would be no Shinto priest or Ronin versed in magic to save her or the ones she loved.

 

With a scream of pain Noshiko fell to her knees, both hands pressed into the wound in a desperate attempt to keep her guts from spilling onto the ground.  The nogitsune and admired the blood on the blade as she contemplated her next bit of fun.  Should she use the blade again, perhaps removing an arm? 

 

Or maybe…oh yes…

 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve used foxfire.”  The nogitsune said with a gleeful smile of sharp teeth as ghostly blue-white fire curled around her hand, “So I need to practice.  Sadly, it won’t take you three days to die.”

 

Noshiko flinched at the reference to Rhys but said nothing, meeting the nogitsune’s eyes with her own glowing ones.  Annoyed by Noshiko’s stoicism the nogitsune contemplated where to start.  Perhaps she would start by burning off Noshiko’s pretty face-

 

‘ _Yako…’_ Rinko’s voice was soft but strong enough to get the nogitsune’s attention, _‘I would offer you a deal.’_

 

Despite herself the nogitsune’s curiosity was piqued and she backed away from the bleeding Noshiko, _‘What could you possibly have to offer me?’_

_‘I offer my soul for you to devour and my body for your use as you wish.’_

 

The nogitsune’s eyes widened in shock as she took a sharp breath.  Despite what Rinko thought the nogitsune could not actually eat souls but she could feed on Rinko’s memories, drink her emotions and devour her life-force, draining her soul until it faded to wherever souls went.  Rinko would no longer exist, even if someone managed an exorcism Rinko would still be gone and the body would be an empty shell.

 

It would be a feast unlike any the nogitsune had ever had with the added bonus of getting a body without having to steal it or share with a host.  But an offer like that was too sweet and too tempting not to have a catch, _‘In exchange for what?’_

Rinko replied without any hesitation, ‘ _The life of Noshiko and any of the other survivors.  You leave here without hurting anyone and go far away.’_

For a brief moment the nogitsune considered her options but truthfully the offer was too sweet to resist, _‘I accept your bargain.’_

 

With the bargain struck, the nogitsune-now Rinko-with her stolen sword in hand, walked away smiling as Noshiko’s sobs echoed through the hallway.

 

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

**_Years Later…._ **

****

The hallway was mostly quiet save for the steady beep of Medical Equipment and the soft murmur of the night shift nurses as they made their rounds.  Though visiting hours were long over, none of these nurses made any move to stop the petite Asian woman as she walked down the hallway.  Later the nurses would tell themselves that was because she moved with such purpose ( _she moved like a predator_ ) as if she had every right to be there ( _she was hunting_ ) no matter that she was neither doctor nor nurse.  They would tell themselves the fluorescent lights wash everything out ( _her skin was the color of bleached bones_ ).  They would tell themselves they did not shiver as she passed, that they were not afraid ( _she left the smell of blood and decay in her wake._ )  

 

The bleeding had finally stopped.  Her heart was still in her chest, no longer pumping blood to her open wounds and her clothes hid the drying blood as the flesh of her body grew colder, making her movements slower and stiffer as she walked down the hallway, savoring the sensation of dying nerves.  She felt a moment of regret; she had grown very fond of this body for it served her well.  For years she had enjoyed interacting with the world and being able to feed at will off the chaos she had caused as Rinko.

 

Drunk on the sensations of her physical form, she’d become careless.  Overconfident, especially where Noshiko was concerned.

 

For years Noshiko had tried to hunt her down and on more than one occasion the two of them had clashed which had fluctuating between annoying and entertaining, at least until she got that human involved putting a whole new spin on the game.  Rinko had thought for sure that their game was over once Noshiko had gotten married.  It never crossed her mind that Noshiko would become so desperate that she would start sacrificing her tails, never thought she would go so far as to summon the Oni.

 

Now the icy hot poison of the Oni’s blade was eating at her wounds making it impossible to repair the damage.  Not only had keeping the dying flesh moving and herself unnoticed by others had weakened her badly, it would only be a matter of time before the Oni found her again.  This time the demon warriors would destroy her for sure.

 

So she needed a place to hide…and a new host. 

 

Her current choice was a young girl named Olivia.  She was 16 years old and had been battling brain cancer.  She was a pretty little thing, with an expertly made-up face and a lovely scarf which didn’t quite concealed the fact that she had no hair.  She had the presence of a queen as she sat in the waiting room, reading a fashion magazine.  Her body was still strong despite her long battle with the disease, she would live.

 

But she didn’t know that.  The oppressive, panicky weight of thinking that she was dying had settled in her mind.  She was young and pretty and she didn’t want to die.  She was perfect.

 

It would be so easy to tempt her with the promise of healing.  All it would take was a breath of power, a tiny boost of health and she would be convinced that the nogitsune had healed her rather than her own body recovering.  And then that the nogitsune would bury itself the within her psyche and would influence her for years to come as it built up strength before taking over completely.

 

Reaching down to a whisper inside Olivia’s mind-

 

There was a sudden flurry of activity outside the waiting room, nurses in multicolored scrubs flittered around like hummingbirds to a flower as a woman was wheeled in and down the hall, her skin flushed and drenched with sweat, her face twisted in pain as she screamed, her stomach swollen in late pregnancy.  The young deputy held her hand, face pale and eyes wide with panic as he tried to console her. 

 

Curious, the nogitsune followed discreetly.

 

The delivery room was abuzz with activity as doctors debated and nurses shouted to be heard over the woman’s screams of pain.  From what the nogitsune could hear, there was an unforeseen complication with the pregnancy but no one was exactly sure what was wrong.  With a glance, the nogitsune could see the child inside the womb was dying. 

 

An idea popped into the nogitsune mind.  Oh, that would be _perfect_.

 

Chaos erupted as a battered and bloodied corpse suddenly appeared inside the delivery room just as the newborn baby took its first breath to scream at the cold slap of air.

 

The nogitsune had never been a child before.  Luckily, there would be time to learn.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Author's Note:**

> So…I have no idea what I’m doing. Unbeated, so all spelling mistakes are mine. Sorry about that.


End file.
